


you and me we burn together (like supernovas)

by amilliontotwo



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, Pining, boys being stupid, break-up, but kinda, expect not really, hearts are breaking, mention of the baby, no one wants to take the first step, this was not supposed to be so sad but yeah
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-21
Updated: 2016-02-21
Packaged: 2018-05-22 11:32:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6077754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amilliontotwo/pseuds/amilliontotwo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one where both boys were too stupid to do anything about their feelings for five years and Harry finally decides to end it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you and me we burn together (like supernovas)

**Author's Note:**

> Timeline might be a bit off hiatus/baby-wise but bear with me, this is all new and shiny for me. I also haven't written anything in I don't know how long, so yeah. Unbeta'd because I'm lazy and impatient.

Harry is jet-lagged and bone-tired. The hiatus is supposed to be relaxing, he thinks, but traveling still takes it out of him, no matter how enjoyable and exciting the stays. He hasn’t seen the other lads in a month but that’s been good, too, - or so he tells himself, distance makes the heart grow fonder and all that. 

What really matters, though, is that he hasn’t seen Louis in a month. 

And really, not being confronted with their constant will-we-won’t-we-tug-of-war did help with clearing his mind. Yet, when his phone rings at 4:03 am after all of 5 minutes of sleep and it’s Louis’ stupid face smiling back at him from his phone, he answers. 

It’s like Louis can fucking sense he’s back in London, Harry thinks, but as it turns out, Louis is on the verge of a breakdown; he’s drunk - Harry can tell from the slurred words and the rough voice, the words ending in a higher pitch than usual. 

And Harry - he wants to tell Louis no, has mentally prepared himself to tell Louis no for a month - but he can’t. Not when Louis sounds so… _wrecked_. So he drags himself out of bed and into his car to make it to Louis’ house and Harry knows it’s a bad idea, can feel it in his bones, because there’s no breaking this cycle if he keeps going back. It’s the last time, he promises himself. No more after tonight.

 

It’s around five in the morning when he makes it to Louis’ house. It’s cold outside and Harry shivers against the rush of air when he gets out of his car. Louis doesn’t seem to mind though; he’s sitting out on his front step, cigarette dangling from his fingers, in only a jumper and trackies, seemingly unaffected by the cold. 

‘What are doing out here, Lou?’ 

Harry clears his throat when his own voice comes out to rough and Louis holds out a bottle of what Harry suspects is beer to him. He declines with a wave of his hand and sits down next to Louis, a shiver running up his spine at the feel of the cold steps through his jeans. 

‘What’s wrong, Louis?’ 

Harry tries again and he tenses when Louis shifts closer to him. 

‘I can’t do it, Haz, I just can’t.’ 

Louis takes a nervous drag of his cigarette and Harry is this close to telling him to stop because they have been over this but the little hitch in Louis’ voice stops him. It always does. 

There’s always something in Louis’ voice or Louis’ face or Louis’ eyes that makes him leave all reason behind. So instead he leans in, bringing his arm around Louis until his hand dangles dangerously close to collar of Louis’ jumper, fingertips almost brushing skin. 

‘Can’t do what? Talk to me.’ 

Louis’ breath smells of alcohol and smoke when Louis turns a bit to face him. 

‘I can’t be- I don’t - how am I supposed to take care of someone? I can barely take care of myself!’ 

Harry sighs softly. So it’s about the baby. Not his favorite topic to begin with. 

‘I mean, I couldn’t even get this right. Us.’ 

Louis reaches up to take hold of his hand then and Harry’s first instinct is to pull away but it’s still Louis and his smaller hand fits still so perfectly into his. 

‘You’re gonna do fine, Lou. I know it.’ 

Louis releases a shaky breath and looks up at him from under those ridiculously long lashes, his blue eyes slightly unfocused. 

‘You don’t know that, Haz. I screwed this up and I really, really didn’t want to screw this up, you know. So how can you say that? You don’t know that.’ 

And this is the second time Louis brings up this mysterious ‘this’ between them that he’s supposedly screwed up and Harry is not sure if he really wants to know what ‘this’ is. ‘You didn’t screw anything up.’ 

Louis shivers against him and takes a final drag of his cigarette before stubbing it out on the step below him. Harry lets go of his hand then and pulls him up and Louis sways with the sudden movement, bringing his hand up against Harry’s chest to steady himself. The touch burns down to his skin, even through the thick fabric of his hoodie. 

‘Let’s get you inside, eh?’ 

Louis is still looking up at him with something akin to wonder in his eyes and yeah, Harry really needs to put some distance between them. Except, when he pushes Louis forward softly with a hand to his shoulder, Louis grabs his hand again, pulling them together, Harry’s chest flush against Louis’ back. It makes Harry question how drunk Louis really is to pull off this kind of coordination but when he stumbles forward over his own feet a second later, Harry chalks it up as a fluke. 

‘C’mon, let’s get you to bed. You really need to sleep it off.’ 

Louis tenses for a second and Harry half expects him to start arguing but Louis just sighs and hangs his head. 

‘Yeah, I should. Thank you. For coming tonight, I mean. You really didn’t have to.’ 

And _damn_ , if the scratchy voice doesn’t make Harry second-guess everything. His mind starts forming words, sensible things he should be saying, but all that comes out is something he really shouldn’t be saying. ‘Do you want me to stay?’ 

And if Harry tells himself it’s only because he’s too tired to make the drive back, well… he’s just going to stick with that. 

Louis stops in his tracks but doesn’t turn to face him. ‘I-yeah, I guess, if you want.’ 

As if Harry would or could say no now. So much for his resolve and saying no. Well, there’s always tomorrow. Or the day after. 

Harry rushes forward when Louis teeters carefully on the first step of the staircase. He puts a steadying hand to Louis’ back and guides them both up the stairs. Harry knows the way, has been to the house enough times to know, yet he still hesitates when Louis heads straight to his bedroom. It’s like Louis can sense his hesitation and he turns to face Harry. ‘Oh- yeah, I can get a spare room ready?‘ 

He’s still a bit unsteady on his feet but he looks like he means it, is determined to do it if Harry asks him to, but then he has to reach for the door frame to steady himself and yeah- Harry couldn’t ask now, even if he had wanted to. ‘S okay, Lou. Just- go to bed, yeah? I’ll be up in a few.’ 

Harry watches as Louis struggles out of his clothes and collapses onto his bed - to make sure Louis is okay, Harry tells himself, that is the only reason - before he makes his way back downstairs to lock the door and turn off the lights and get some water and aspirin for the morning or noon.

Louis is out cold when he gets back upstairs and Harry’s heart breaks just a little more at all the missed opportunities of the past. He strips down to his underwear and slides into bed next to Louis. There’s still enough space between them that their bodies don’t touch but Harry can still feel the heat of Louis’ body so close to his and oddly enough, sleep comes almost instantly.

 

When Harry wakes, it’s to a dry mouth and a warm weight on his chest. It takes him a moment to remember and when he looks down, his nose ends up in Louis’ hair, and Harry really doesn’t mean to take a deep breath and breathe in everything - the ridiculously girly scent of shampoo, the stale smoke, _Louis_ \- but he does. Louis stirs but doesn’t wake, only tightens his hand around Harry’s body, unconsciously pulling him even closer. And this, this is what they could have had, Harry muses, if any of them had been man enough to take the first step. 

Harry carefully takes hold of the hand curled around his chest and he can’t resist pressing a kiss to the palm before he ever-so-slowly extracts himself from Louis’ embrace. Louis huffs softly in his sleep but doesn’t wake and Harry lets out a relieved breath as he quietly gathers his clothes. 

He stops for a moment in the doorway, taking in the sight of Louis sprawled all over the bed, his lean back, the curve of his spine, the tattoos on his arm. He’s seen it all before but he doesn’t plan to see it again, so he drinks in every little detail, catalogues it in his memory, every little thing, because this is it, Harry decides. No more could-have-beens and no more maybes. It hurts, so much more than expected, but it also feels strangely liberating and Harry thinks, maybe this is what moving on should feel like.

He takes a moment to write a short note to Louis in the kitchen - _thanks for letting me crash, see you around_ \- and it feels impersonal but maybe that is what Harry needs right now. 

By the time Louis wakes, Harry is already at the airport, boarding the plane that takes him back on a trip around the world to see it all and maybe make forgetting a littler easier.


End file.
